


The Butterfly’s Wings get Clipped

by Iranoutofroomtowriteanymore



Category: Dead or Alive (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, Naked Female Clothed Male, Non-Consensual Spanking, Rape/Non-con Elements, Tit Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-15 23:01:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28946319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iranoutofroomtowriteanymore/pseuds/Iranoutofroomtowriteanymore
Summary: So this will be the first part of a new series that I've had pre-written for a while, just not happy with it and probably going to rewrite them. Would welcome comments/feedback/criticisms/new ideas.
Kudos: 1





	The Butterfly’s Wings get Clipped

Lisa shuddered as the cool arena air made her skin prickle up in gooseflesh, the hexagonal wrestling off-white canvas was stained by a puddles of blood residue that had long since dried to a reddish-brown. As well as the grey discolour of perspiration, where previous fighters had exerted themselves. The canvas had other blemishes that had sunken deep into the weaves, Lisa didn’t want to even guess at what the cause of those was.

The wrestling canvas was not ringed with ropes as was normal in most rings Lisa had trained at in the back of a downtown gym with its bare brickwork and dilapidated equipment. Or even in the luxury private gyms of Tri-towers. Instead, slender high-tension cables bordered the ring, with tall turnbuckles containing electrical insulators connecting the cables. Lisa’s strangely coloured irises peered at the rows and rows of empty red plastic benches concealed in darkness. There were only two sources of light in the area, the first were the rows of LED spotlights that illuminated the canvas. The second, and where Lisa’s scrutinizing gaze was now fixed, was the three large wall-mounted monitor’s bright glare. The left screen displayed Lisa’s personal information all tagged with an appropriate label, complete with a front facing image of herself in her orange feathered and braided Lucha Libre wrestling mask with an exaggerated flame red butterfly decoration. The mask was open from her nose, allowing herself to see the glossy red almost-whorish lipstick she had chosen to apply that day. 

Just to the left on the frame another screen was mounted, a large rectangle, it would display the upcoming match, Lisa knew. An audience watching from the comfort of their chairs at home would see the fight from multiple angles thanks to the dozen or so camera fixed in the turnbuckles and would have an unprecedented view of every punch, kick, or submission holds. At the moment it showcased the voluptuous and athletic body of Lisa Hamilton. She was a caramel-skinned beauty, with short glossy dark hair cut into a bob style, 36D-cup-sized breasts encased in a white and pink chrome bikini top that pushed Lisa’s chest together and formed mouthwatering cleavage. A flicker of annoyance passed across La Mariposa’s features as she noticed the cameras linger a little longer than was appropriate yet brushed it off with a provocative simile.

Slender garter-like belts criss-crossed the wrestler’s slim, toned abs with small gold hoops connecting each section of her outfit yet barely covering a fraction of Lisa’s caramel-hued belly. The camera panned lower, revealing to any audience watching Lisa’s nice thick ass-cheeks filling the back of her tight, thigh-length fringed skirt in a very attractive manner. At the bottom of the frame, the audience could just about made out the top of a of white stockings that clung to her sleekly toned legs.

“Come on, come on”, Lisa muttered under her breath, growing more annoyed with every passing second the monitor on the far right displayed the frozen DOATEC company logo. “ _Carajo!_ Just tell me who it is?!”.

Suddenly a loud horn blazed, the type found announcing the imminent arrival of a cruise ship at some port. The noise almost made Lisa jump in surprise and made her subtle abs clench instinctively in response. The match was about to begin, Lisa gave relieved, if anxious sigh.

Bending down, La Mariposa pulled up her stockings to reaffirm their maximum elasticity, then assured the laces on her pink chrome calf-high boots were tight. Before pulling the arm and wristband further up her subtly toned left bicep. Finally, and certainly most important was her pink and white butterfly-styled front Lucha Libre mask was pulled tight across her high-cheek bones and smooth forehead. The only visible facial features of the stunning Exotic Entrepreneur were her glossy red lips, small chin, and her usual yet beautiful almond eyes.

“ _Finalmente!_ ”, Lisa sighed. Reaching her arms back behind herself while still bending over, La Mariposa began to stretch out her sleek athletic quad and ham muscles. Lisa grounded her palm into her subtle musculature flexing under unblemished caramel skin, steadily loosening her toned limbs for the upcoming match.

Standing up to see who had been selected for her rival, Lisa looked over to the entrance ramp. The overhead spotlight were now lighting up the plastic stand that blocked the main arena door, so contestants needed to circle around and walk down the platform to reach the ring.

“The victor of a dozen fights! DOATEC’s number one protégé, the skull crusher! Backbreaker! The Embodiment of Brutality himself! Cade Duke!“, the announcer’s exaggerate macho voice blared across the arena and echoed off the chairs in a stands. Lisa flexing her shoulders, growing more anxious every second.

The twenty three year old wrestler’s eyes widened when she recognised her opponent as he stepped through the entrance and walking down the ramp towards the ring. Almost seven feet tall, Duke’s body was a study in board muscular shoulders, and thick athletic biceps. Even under his black padded turtleneck t-shirt Lisa could see he possessed chiselled washboard abs and bulging sculpted pectoral muscles that boasted of strength. His entire torso was almost ugly in its overabundance of raw physical power, like an overexaggerated depiction of masculine muscles in some comic book. As Duke ducked under the cables, taking care to avoid brushing against them, Lisa made note of his loose brown camouflage cargo pants, sturdy black combat boots, and the DOATEC logo printed in golden Cambria font.

Duke’s Lucha Libre mask was simple black nylon with the abbreviated capitalized initials of the word mist depicted in gold print on the forehead. Under his mask, his jaw was chiselled and sharp. The only facial feature La Mariposa could see was a pair of dark brown hooded eyes that seem to gleam with a certain perverted anticipation that made her especially nervous. 

Lisa’s sleek athletic body looked girlish and weak in comparison, the top of her Lucha mask only reaching the middle of Duke’s board chest.

“Ha! Do you really think you can beat me, girl?”, Duke grinned, his wet lips spread in a leer. His Lucha mask had a small hole cut around his mouth and eyes, Lisa trembled slightly at his pearly whites. “Give it up while you can still walk. You won’t even realise how insignificant you when I ground your bones to dust beneath my boot!”. 

“ _Capullo!_ You really want to fight this badly…?”, Lisa enquired unable to keep the quiver from her voice. She had no idea that her opponent was this keen of fighting her. The La Mariposa had known of Cade Duke’s infamous brutality in the ring, not to mention his less than acceptable views of certain ethic groups. Moreover, the caramel-skinned wrestler was shocked at Duke’s size, she had seen the man in various wrestling magazines where he was undeniably muscular, but standing in the flesh before her, Duke seemed to dwarf his photo representation. 

This match hadn’t exactly been her idea; however, she was prepared to every ounce of her stamina and skill to defeat Hong and find Tina.

“The first contestant to lose their mask will lose the match!”, the ring announcer’s automated voice echoed across the arena.

In only a few seconds Lisa had already decided on her methods of attack; if she relied on her speed and ability then Lisa was confident in her skill to dodge and duck away from the towering brute. Her only concern, Lisa figured, was actually being hit by him. If she were too slow by a second or a single misstep could knock her out cold, the sheer unrivalled strength of Cade Duke was almost legendary in the world of Lucha Libre wrestling, certainly infamous. Lisa had almost lost count of the number of times she had read how Duke had broken the rules of wrestling. One particular gruesome event involved Duke knocking the referee out with a monstrous right hook, then had pinned African-American wrestler Damien “Luther” Johnson on the canvas and proceeded to beat him to death. She remember watching an interview after the match where Duke had simply said he couldn’t tell the difference between Johnson’s skin colour and the black ring mat. Lisa did her best to conceal her emotion, apart from an anxious swallow and gently bouncing her left leg.

La Mariposa bounced on her toes, readying her muscles for movement, as she watched Duke stride forward and raise a clenched fist, a vicious grin spreading across his lips. Fortunately, Cade had overextended his arm, clearly telegraphing his punch. Ducking under, his fist passed through the air where her forehead had been moments ago.

“ _Fucking_ Latina whore!”, Duke screamed, spittle spraying everywhere, as she rolled over her shoulder behind him. Before leaping onto the third turnbuckle of the ring ropes, grateful that the electricity hadn’t been switched on, twisting her body around Lisa moved her feet on the highest cable and reached her arms behind herself to grasp the cable, ready to jump off. Duke stumbled back a few steps, his board well-muscled back flexing as he turned sluggishly round towards her. Lisa took her opportunity and leap upon his back, wrapping her sleekly toned thighs around his hard waist and locked her ankles together, effectively pinning herself to Cade Duke’s upper back. Lisa proceeded to pummel the back of Cade’s head and thick neck with harsh little stinging punches.

“Grgh! Hahaha! You think that hurts? You fucking dyke bitch!!”, Cade screamed at her, twisting his torso violently while Lisa’s sleek thighs flexed with definition as she struggled to clinch to his back. 

“UNN-GGGHHH!!!”, Lisa squealed as she was jerked about from Cade so-far futile attempts to throw her off him. “Just give up, bastardo!”, she added desperately.

Cade grunted in outrage, this tacohead-whore’s grip was infuriating, no matter how hard he jerked about the caramel-skinned cunt clung to him. Suddenly, Cade had an idea, moving one palm back behind himself and around Lisa flaring hips. All the while Lisa was peppering both sides of his head with stinging shots that made him grunt in annoyance. Lining up his hand with Lisa’s undeniably beautiful tight caramel-hued bubble ass and landed a hard spank on their smooth, thick ass-cheeks.

“AAH!”, Lisa yelped and for a moment her grip slipped without her realisation.

The Embodiment of Brutality grinned as he felt the slut’s squats sculpted bubble ass jiggle and bounced beneath his palms. “Second mistake, bitch!”, Cade spat over his shoulder. Suddenly reaching up over his shoulder, Cade grabbed hold of Lisa’s slender left wrist and pulled forward, like his was putting on a seatbelt. Meanwhile he leaned down on his left shoulder and with a perfectly executed judo shoulder throw.

“UUUNNNGGGHHH!!!”, Lisa’s moan was loud and humiliating, echoing around the arena as the back of her neck, head, and shoulders took the entire impact of the throw. Lisa’s vision momentarily fell into blackness as her senses deserted her. Lisa had now collapsed onto the canvas in a curvaceous heap, moaning weakly as a distinct ringing echoed in her ears. In her current state of discombobulation, she didn’t feel Cade’s rough grip around her sleek and toned waist and pull her onto her hands and knees. Lisa grunted when Cade gave her belly a sharp hard kick that sent her tumbling across the wrestling canvas. Her legs flipped up over herself, her arms went limp, and her entire voluptuous athletic body ended up doubled over on itself.

To Cade she resembled one of those dyke sluts waiting to be given a hard pounding in the pile driver position from her redneck dyke friend. One of the spaghetti straps of Lisa’s white-and-pink chrome had fallen down her slender arm, allowing her luscious left breast to spill free from its cup. Also, Lisa’s fringed skirt had bunched up around her board hips, utterly revealing her thick, bubble-shaped ass-cheeks. Leering and looking closer, Cade traced the tight chrome thong tapering down between and disappeared into the crevice of her caramel ass crack.

Wanting more skin, the Embodiment of Brutality stretched down and ripped her white, chrome, and pink bikini top off her svelte torso. Her full, bare tits bounced free, Cade immediately pounced on her tits, like some starving lion presented with a prime cut of steak. He grunted with lust when his hands were overflowed with lush, teardrop-shaped tits. Burying his strong fingers into their yielding undersides, crushing her caramel breasts, cruelly twisting her dark nipples between his finger pads like they were his property. He could spend literal hours mauling her luscious caramel-coloured tit-flesh, making it bulge and flow between his grasping digits.

The straps across her subtly-toned abs snapped free, he eventually noticed, leaving Lisa dressed solely in her fringed skirt, stockings, pink chrome boots, and of course her butterfly mask. Cade wanted to extend Lisa’s suffering as much as possible and decided to leave her mask on.


End file.
